I suspect fowl play...

A woman returns to her home to find a near perfect imprint of an owl on her window.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cumbria-14111152

Happy Birthday Neptune!

Normally, Pluto gets all of the attention and it's not even a planet! Well not today! Neptune has just completed its first orbit around the sun since its discovery in 1846. One Neptunian year is equivalent to approximately 165.5 earth years.

source

Coolest Seashell/Rock Collection Ever...?

Not a collection of coral, but grains of sand magnified 250 times their true size.

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Random Cell Phone Pictures: These aren't the droids we're looking for....

The Art of Observation

"From a drop of water," said the writer, "a logician could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of one or the other. So all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is one which can only be acquired by long and patient study nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest possible perfection in it. Before turning to those moral and mental aspects of the matter which present the greatest difficulties, let the enquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems. Let him, on meeting a fellow-mortal, learn at a glance to distinguish the history of the man, and the trade or profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such an exercise may seem, it sharpens the faculties of observation, and teaches one where to look and what to look for. By a man's finger nails, by his coat-sleeve, by his boot, by his trouser knees, by the callosities of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs -- by each of these things a man's calling is plainly revealed. That all united should fail to enlighten the competent enquirer in any case is almost inconceivable."

-Sir Doyle

Milk Cookies and Pixies

Foolishly, the young and now slightly bruised boy thought he could make his way through the house by memory alone. Somewhere along the line his memory had failed him, and his left elbow had paid the price. This was of little concern, if in the morning it was still raw mother would gingerly apply a Band-Aid and all would be well.  In the meantime however, there were more pressing matters at hand. The most concerning of which being this tooth fairy business; the other children at Mansfield’s school for boys might buy into this nonsense, but Peter knew better. Of all the stories that adults had told, the tooth fairy was the hardest to swallow. A pixie that trades in international currency to satisfy her unquenchable thirst for the teeth of small children? Not only was this story utterly ridiculous, it was told differently to each child whom Peter had questioned on the subject. Edmond for instance, claimed that the tooth fairy left a one pound note for each tooth she took, but Peter had been told she left fifty pence in place of her stolen treasures. This and many other inconsistencies led Peter to the conclusion that definite action must be taken to find out who or what was behind the web of deception. Thus Peter had hatched a plan; he had attached a bell to his tooth with a string, and hidden the bell a little further under the pillow. This was done so that the culprit would strike without fear of being detected, only to have the bell ring just as he or she pulled the tooth from under the pillow. When this happened Peter would spring from his sleep and finally get to the bottom of this mystery. In celebration of his grand scheme, Peter decided to go downstairs and have a glass of milk and a chocolate chip cookie or two. Foolishly, the young and now slightly bruised boy though he could make his way through the house by memory alone.

Tragedy at the Lincoln Street Hotel: The Red Cup Rager

It was 4:00 A.M. by the time I got to the Lincoln Street Hotel. Fancy cars filled the parking lot. A beautiful fountain with colorful lights complimented the flashing hues emitted from the top of cop cars, yet the ornate architecture was almost mocking the dismal scene. These kids were having a real rager. Apparently some party-goer either jumped or was thrown from the fourth floor; my job was to figure out which one it was. I didn’t really want to see what was left of the kid, but they wouldn’t call it work if it was easy. Talk about a mess. What can you really learn by looking at the smashed body of drunken party boy? Usually in the homicide/suicide question, you’re looking for evidence of struggle, but how can you pin anything on a shattered skull lying in a pool of blood. This is why beer and balconies are a bad mix. Ok, let’s see what we’ve got upstairs. What was I looking for, smashed-face’s suicide note? Ha, he was smashed before he even knew the room had a balcony. This guy was probably so drunk that he couldn’t even hold a pen, much less put a sentence together. So, what do I just find his mother and say “hey, Johnny got a little drunk and had an accident, sorry.” That would sure be easier than trying to sort out this jumbled mass of foggy intoxication. Inebriated women with runny mascara lined the hallway. The boys in blue were still hauling out passed out bros. One of these tank-top twits might be a murderer. Maybe Johnny kissed the wrong Suzy before Billy was too wasted to notice, but something tells me that by the time Johnny was attempting flight there wasn’t a Billy in the room who could walk ten feet, much less throw someone over a balcony. These kids were doing more than boozing here. I waded through the red cups, vomit, and glass bottles onto the balcony. I looked over the rail right above where the kid splattered. There I was where Johnny was standing four floors and several beers ago. Behold America’s wasted youth.

Sliced Bread on Facebook!

Now you can like Sliced Bread on the Facebook!

Music Snobs #3: Back Off!

Music snobs for a long time have hunted down and tried to eradicate the two note chord. Formally known as the power chord this tonic and dominant combination has become the outcast of music snobs and haters throughout the centuries. The emotional context and lack of complication has made this chord a pest in the eyes of the "mature musician". In reality, the power chord is just completely misunderstood. It never intended to be colorful or complex. It never promised harmonic diversity, but it does provide the back bone of almost all modern music. Parallel fifths are a joy to the dramatic angst filled teenager as he plucks out a simple melody to chronicle the sorrows of the world.

The power chord is raw and immature. It carries with it the power to sway the masses and bring cultural revolution. Although it may be harmonically boring the power chord has the ability to contain as much emotional content as the performer can muster. The power chord can be played by even the most minimally proficient guitarist. This opens the opportunity for anyone that ever wanted to express themselves musically a convenient outlet.

The bottom line is that music is just a collection of frequencies and rhythms that are played together in order to evoke an emotional response. With this in mind, music can be simple and still be highly effective. So go ahead and be freed from the criticism of the music snobs. Write a song, brighten someones day, or chronicle the depressing state of your pathetic love life. It's your thing... do what you want to do.

The Marvels of Wikipedia... Or maybe just your entertainment for the next 15 minutes.

If you click on the first link that is not in italics or parentheses of any article in Wikipedia and repeat on subsequent passages, you will without fail end up on the piece regarding Philosophy.

Don't believe me?

doorknob: 22 clicks

Spongebob Squarepants: 14 clicks

earthworm: 21 clicks

Lady Gaga: 19 clicks

quadrumvirs: 15 clicks

Please attempt yourself and reply in the comments with your root subject and how many clicks! Can't think of something outlandish to test? Use the random article feature!

p.s.

quadrumvirs were "a group of four leader that led Benito Mussolini's March on Rome in October 1922."

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quadrumvirs

The boy who wore a dress to the zoo

As a child, I feared not the boogeyman, nor the dark, for me they were easily conquered. No, for me true fear struck in the form of road trips. There was little I feared more than getting in and staying in that mobile, stuffy, and often crowded closet for more than short amounts of time. This fear was only multiplied by my generally negative disposition and tendency to get motion sick extremely easily. These terrible ingredients stirred and boiled at the proper temperature for the correct amount of time produce a porridge Goldilocks wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. This is not to say I didn’t suffer through a road trip here and there for a trip to the Nashville zoo or Atlanta Aquarium.

One such trip to the Birmingham zoo started innocently enough; there was a shortage of children attending this trip, affording us the opportunity to fold down the middle seat of the shiny silver minivan to stage elaborate battles for the freedom of the Green Army. Ever the underdog, always horribly outnumbered, yet still undefeated in battle, the Green Army put on show after show of determination and grit in the face of the tyranny posed by the Tan menace. The terrible Tan army, scorned by all good, truth-loving communist-hating American boys, were dealt horrific defeat after horrific defeat by the Green Army. These bloody skirmishes entertained me just fine for the better part of the trip, my mind too occupied with the lives I held in my hand to think about the potential throw-up I held in my stomach.

As we drew nearer to our destination though, my eyes were called into service to search for the exit sign. It started as a mere slight churning, but soon I was asking if we could pull over. Then begging. My cries, however, fell on deaf ears as I was informed that “We’re almost there, you’ll be fine for a few more minutes!” The minutes felt like hours as we drew closer and closer to the zoo, where I would be granted sweet relief from my pain.

We had finally crested the final hill and pulled into the parking lot when suddenly I could no longer hold it. Within moments I was not only drenched in a mixture of what used to be 6 chicken Mc-nuggets and a medium sprite (supposedly good for upset stomachs), but so was the entire seat in front of me. After a few moments of horrified staring followed by frenzied crying, we decided that the best course of action was to send one or more members of our group into the gift shop to explore the possibility of purchasing new clothes for me so that our journey could continue.

“Pardon me sir, do you sell clothing here, pants and shirts?” my faithful friend Steven asked the clerk. “Well, no pants, but we do have a line of zoo Birmingham zoo themed t-shirts over there. What size were you looking for?” the clerk answered. “No pants? We’ll have one extra-large, sir.”

"I'm just not sure this long distance relationship is going to work..."

F. Y. I.

Candid Cell Phone Pictures: I feel uplifted already!

Wonder Bread Sessions with Steve

Mona Lisa Pales

The Sun Maid girl is a babe. For reals, this chick has moves. It's not just her perfect complexion, rosy cheeks, brilliant brown eyes, and thick brown locks that make her so attractive; nor is it her soft smile and the gentleness in her eyes. Don’t get me wrong, all the afore mentioned traits are absolutely part of what makes her such a fox, but what really gives her swag is found in her title. She is the sun maid. Adding to her simple gorgeousness is the fact that this girl has been laboring in the sun all day and still has that kind smile. That’s flat out hot. She’s been picking grapes all day, the sun is setting, and she’s still beaming. She’s happy to toil beneath the oppressive rays of the relentless sun. A lesser woman would use her beauty to shirk manual labor, and manipulate her way into a life of ease. Not this girl, no way. She’s no sellout. She’s not looking to depend on anyone, but she’s not so proud that she won’t work in a field. She’s content to do menial work, but why? Does she have infirmed parents to provide for? Were her husband and father-in-law killed defending their homeland, and she’s chosen to loyally support her mother-in-law and follow her back to her homeland, so she works the only job a foreign woman can find? Is her name Ruth? Could be… The point is, she is obviously noble. And pretty. So, to recap, the Sun Maid girl is basically the girl of my dreams. Curse fiction.

A low class review of a high class establishment

Kickin' it old school

The problem with restaurant reviews is that they’re typically of ultra-ritzy bite sized portion type places. The kinds of places that if you’re rich enough to eat at, you’re likely busy enough to not waste time reading reviews anyways. So I propose bringing said reviews down to earth, way down.

Atmosphere, 6 of 10.

The addition of two big screen TV’s has really done wonders for an otherwise drab atmosphere. The only real issue with them is that they only play the Taco Bell channel, throwing a little ESPN on once in a while wouldn’t kill anyone. I would suggest using the drive through as it will improve the atmosphere considerably.

Service, 4 of 10.

Should I ever meet a Taco Bell employee who’s brain didn’t turn off the second I attempted to change my order in any way, I may marry them on the spot. The service was however redeemed when the cashier complimented me on my sweet airplane shirt. One thing to note about the previously mentioned drive through option is, while it may be more pleasant, will almost certainly result in a botched order.

Food, 5 of 10.

The food was edible, but the fire sauce, the hottest sauce available, hardly packs the punch its name might suggest. The rest of the menu on the other hand packs more punch then you might think; sadly it’s more of a kidney shot that has you doubling over in pain than a delicious knuckle burrito.

Overall impression, 5 of 10.

The food was tolerable, the service was average, and the atmosphere was enjoyable. Not exactly enough to solidify itself as a mainstay on my fine dining list, but I’ll definitely keep it open as a place for a romantic first date, when I’m trying to avoid a second one.

-Stever